you cut i choose

it's not like yesterday's cake is
all that fresh anyway

but i recoil from the burden
of scoring that line
pressing server to icing
etching the transient
in a parody of permanence

-- intransigently --
i'd as soon freeze a hot shower
with you in it

or you

or me.

so take this implement
this gleaming triangular
medium of transformation
and cleave the sugar smear

-- split the spongy chocolate
like lightning rends air
or scars a treetrunk's crenellations
in pitch and cinder --

and i will choose thusly:

i will measure each portion with my eyes
turning each plate around in my hand
weighing
recalling geometrical formulae
for volume and area

and i will discover
that this task also is odious

apprehensive of choosing poorly
failing to observe some critical distinction
comparing the worth
of a sugar blossom with
the thicker layer of cherry filling

and neglecting all the while to ask
why i should want a bigger slice
than you

or

whether i wanted cake
to begin with.